The Job
by JasperK
Summary: What is Vash's job?


Spoilers: Manga: Trigun Maximum vol 5

* * *

Vash sat on the chair outside the office with the piece of paper in his hands. As waiting room chairs went it was rather uncomfortable. He would have preferred a hard bench. This was a pole and canvas construction and just too loose to be comfortable. The one he currently perched on was, he had discovered, the most comfortable of the eight chairs in the room. Two he had tried had collapsed and dumped him on the floor, the second one trapping his fingers painfully until he had had to use brute force to lever the poles apart to free his hand. He flexed his painful fingers and examined the paper he held, it was a job want ad which he had found pinned to the notice board outside the grocery store.

He clenched and unclenched his hand, ow, his index finger was really sore. He probably had a blood blister. He gave the offending chair a glare and turned back to the ad. It was a rather ostentatious advert for the job it was offering. All twirls and fancy writing for a position as kitchen dogsbody and dishwasher. Also, what was this waiting outside an office to see whoever owned the hotel? He had never had such a job interview in his life. He grinned wryly; then again, he had always knocked at back doors or been able to take whatever want ad he would found directly to the person hiring.

He gingerly rubbed his sore finger, ow, that wasn't clever. It bloody well hurt! Just leave it. Don't think about it. He was beginning to notice that this big city was nothing like the little towns he had visited. He had not had much of an opportunity to visit one of the big cities before; oh, he had driven through them en route to other small towns, but had never stayed more than a few nights. He had certainly never asked for a job in one. Cities did not offer much to him. He loved the presence of all the people, he could not deny that, but the small towns were the ones who always needed more help. He felt most content when doing a day's graft at whatever needed doing. He also appreciated the friendliness. He had been deliberately ignored several times today, and now this waiting for an interview. Perhaps people were too busy and too worried to see others. He smiled, there must be something he could do to help. He began to feel better at that thought.

The door suddenly opened and a young woman in a blue dress with a grey apron stepped out and closed it quietly behind her. Then to his astonishment, she put her face in her hands and hunched up her shoulders. She was crying.

"Are you alright Miss?" He asked, as he got to his feet.

She jumped and stared up at him in shock, as if she had not noticed him there. She fiercely scrubbed her tears away, darted around him and hurried down the passage. Vash gaped after her in frank bewilderment.

The door opened again and a stern woman stared up at him. Her dark eyebrows climbed as she took in his height and red coat.

"You here for the kitchen job?" Her voice was so sharp it was almost a bark.

"Yes!" He grinned at her.

"Enthusiastic, eh?" She said in a deadpan voice, then turned her back on him and walked across to the desk. "Come in."

He closed the door behind him.

"Sit." She seated herself behind her desk and waved at the single chair in the middle of the room. Damn it was one of those rickety canvas contraptions. He sat carefully. Oh dear, this was one of those wobbly ones. He kept most of his weight on his legs and balanced as lightly as he could on the chair.

"Your name?"

"Vash the Stampede."

She levelled a cool gaze at him.

"Just Vash will do." She spoke down her nose. "Please be serious. We are not in some hick town."

He blinked. It was his name. How could she tell him it was not his name?

"You worked in a kitchen before?"

"Yes."

"In what capacity?"

"Ah, everything?" He replied, bewildered.

"You can cook?"

"Yes."

"Be advised that you will _not _be cooking here, we have trained professionals for that." She said coldly.

"Okay." He smiled.

"You will be on trial for a week. If you displease us in any way, you will be dismissed and paid only the wages you earned 'til that point. Understood?"

"Yes." He nodded. Ooh, moving was not a good idea. The chair wobbled.

She scribbled something on a long slip of paper, then held it out imperiously.

"Here is a chitty telling Ethel you're on the wages list. You'll report to her."

He gingerly got off the rickety chair and took the paper from her. She clung to her end of it and he realised he now had a tug of war to get it off her. He stopped pulling. She delivered her most ferocious glare yet.

"If you so much as look at one of the girls working for me in the wrong way, sonny, you'll be out on your ear, with no wages. Understood?"

"Ah, yes?" He said as solemnly as he could. Privately he wanted to laugh. She was perhaps the rudest person he had ever met. Oh, he had met farmers who could challenge the devil to a cussing contest and win, and drunks who would sooner give him an elbow in the guts before the time of day, but this disregard and distain was somehow worse.

She released the chitty and turned back to her books. He realised he was dismissed. He was about to go quietly when he noticed the column of figures she was copying had been added wrong.

"That should be three hundred and eighty four, not three hundred and seventy seven."

She raised her head and gave him such a chilled stare that he raised both hands.

"S-Sorry! I'm going! I'm going." He scuttled out, and very quietly shut the door, glad to have escaped with his life.

He found Ethel in the kitchens. She was a plump woman with a bright smile on her dark face. She had her black hair tied back in a bandanna.

"Hoo! So you're the red coated gentleman who so scared our poor Jenna!" Ethel took the chitty from him.

Vash noticed the girl who had run past him glance at him from where she was chopping cucumber for sandwiches on the far side of the kitchen. She gave him a nervous smile and he winked at her before remembering he was not supposed to flirt. Huh, where was the fun in that?

"Well, where do you want to start? What's your name, by the way? I'm Ethel and you've met Jenna, and this is the rest of the kitchen staff." She waved a hand and rattled off the names making people raise their hands and wave or nod when she said them.

"Vash." He said, remembering the disdain he had received for his full title.

"That's an unusual name."

He grinned. He had never encountered another with the same name.

"I suppose you can do the garbage first, it is the most urgent. I'm glad you're a strapping young man, we've been short handed since the Jackson brother's left."

"Er." He said. "Is that lady upstairs always so, er..."

Ethel laughed.

"That's just Miss Lorna. Never mind her. We draw our wages from Mister Wilson, but he's away this week, which is why you had to see her. We've all been having it a little tough. Did she chew your ear off?"

"A bit." He grinned.

There was a general knowing laugh around the kitchen.

"Ah, never mind. The bins are through there. You'll need to take them to the skip at the end of the alley. They'll do a collection later this afternoon. Take an apron from the laundry room."

He had emptied the last of the bins by the time he noticed the children playing in the street. He glanced at the kitchen; he would not be missed for the moment. He left the last bin by the skip and crouched down beside the group.

"What you want, Mister?" One of them demanded.

"Yeah, get lost this is our turf."

"What if I want in with your gang?"

"Really?" An older boy laughed, he looked about eleven. "But you're a grownup."

"So? I can screech like a sand steamer."

"So can we!" A younger boy let off the first yell, then the others followed.

They were enjoying themselves yelling when Vash felt someone tap his shoulder.

Jenna was standing behind him trying not to laugh.

"Ethel wants you on washing up, the lunch rush has started!"

"Sure."

"Oi! Where are you goin'?" The boy who had appointed himself captain, demanded. "You're my underling now!"

"I'll be back later."

"Promise."

"Promise!" He called and followed a laughing Jenna down the alley.

"You're funny." Jenna said in a warm voice.

Vash beamed at her then remembered the warning Miss Lorna had given him. Huh! She really cramped his style. If he did not need the job to pay his rent money, he would have tried putting his arm around Jenna. He clenched his hands behind his back to resist temptation; she was so tall and pretty. He enjoyed watching her walk instead; she had a way of swishing her hips that he found most pleasing.

He spent his lunch hour, which was rather more a late afternoon hour, wandering around asking questions. He had to go back to work as evening came and the busy dinner service at the restaurant required the entire kitchen staff.

He had spent a week at the restaurant when he finally hit pay dirt. Ethel had been so impressed at his friendliness she had put him on as an assistant waiter. He was astonished how well people tipped him for just smiling and being friendly. In fact, it was one of the guests he had served, who gave him the answer he needed.

"Four days."

Vash was rather relieved to report his resignation to Mister Wilson. Miss Lorna had a piercing glare that froze his bones. He enjoyed working, but his feet were beginning to itch again, and he wanted the big skies over his head once more. There was something about the desert which called to his soul. The city skies were small and limited to what he could see out of his room window, nothing more than a square patch among the tall buildings. No, as amazing as it was having so many people around, he liked to keep moving. In addition, a faint chill touched his heart; Knives had been too quiet of late. He had not seen or heard report of his brother in the last few years. No, he could not settle, as comforting as it was having people who knew him.

He managed to hug Jenna goodbye. He was pleased about that. He had hugged all the ladies on the kitchen staff. Even Ethel, who giggled like a young girl, and poked him in the chest and told him he needed to find a wife and settle down. He walked up to the mansion near the middle of town. It stood grandly among all the other mansions of the city, built along a natural rise, and overlooking the great city. He ambled along the street, gazing out at the view. Ah, what a difference this was from a hundred years ago. People were making so much progress. He could see the curl of the ancient ship where the plant globes nestled. He would visit his sisters after he met the man he had come to see.

He knocked at the door of the great house. A servant nervously glanced out at him.

"Hi!" He beamed. "I'm Vash, I'm here to see Count Revenant."

The servant almost closed the door on him, but Vash got his foot in.

"Hey, don't be like that. I have some good news for him..."

The servant flinched and pulled the door open. He pointed to a room off the elaborate hall.

"Thank you."

Vash watched the servant scuttle away. Something was odd about the man. He walked over to the door and knocked, then let himself in. The room was a vast study, with an elaborate desk under a tall window.

"Yo. Vash."

Vash simply stared.

It was Knives. His brother was smiling and calmly drinking a mug of tea. Vash felt all of his senses heighten and switch to alert. The last time he had met his brother it was after Knives had murdered a gang of tomas rustlers. There had not been enough left of the corpses to bury.

What was going on? It wasn't like Knives to be smiling like that unless he had done something that Vash would find particularly upsetting. Vash drew his gun and pointed it at Knives's head without thinking. He had to protect the people of July. He had met some of them and he owed them at least that much, even the grouchy ones. He would get Knives out before he could kill again. Yes. His brother was his responsibility. He would protect them. It was his job.


End file.
